


The Final Promise

by Seevoboo



Category: Destiny (Video Games), Destiny - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Non-Graphic Violence, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:40:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24179089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seevoboo/pseuds/Seevoboo
Summary: Markus Mikov couldn't have ever known what would happen in the Hellmouth. None of them ever could. In his final moments, he tries to hang on to the only piece of clarity closest to him, desperate to preserve it.
Kudos: 1





	The Final Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Heyooo! Finally gonna try a note.  
> I'm still relatively new to posting on Ao3, but I'd say I'm doing decent. I don't have much to say besides, at this time I have 2 kudos n' 22 hits! Thank you so much for the support on my first work! 💖  
> These rough works won't last forever, I assure you! Comments are appreciated! Thank you again!

** The Final Promise **

"I couldn't leave you," pants Markus' voice. He's so out of breath, but he can't stop. Not now. Not ever. He's clinging onto another life, even if he's barely alive, too. His ghost wasn't here to help, for they'd all fled when things had begun to go south. 

"The others didn't make it. They couldn't hold on. There were too many of them. I-I'm sorry.."

Pyre whines at this, trying to force the words out, trying to tell him to leave him behind. There's nothing but the horrid strain and crackle as his modulator tries to function. The hunter already knows this. He winces at the warlock's distress; he had sent them scrambling for safety after all. And look where it got him; a mangled mess, shoulder hanging by a few synthetic sinews, leaking fluid across the escapee's forearms and on the ground. His robes have made way to gape open his chest, the source of bleeding. Everything is staining black. An unfortunate, easy trail for their pursuer.

He bolts past the chasms, deep and foreboding in the mist. The moon rock is tampered further with each frantic dash, already stamped down with the armies of thrall. Each step jostles the warlock in his arms, each forcing a wheeze, a pant, a sob. At some point, he manages to make a plea to leave him behind. Again, something he can't do.

The knight roars in rage in the distance. He was in pursuit, and catching up. And Markus knew if he held on, neither of them would make it. The knight would not stop until his mistress of the dark was avenged. The thought of the both of them falling to the blade makes him shudder. Fatefully, he's bought enough time.

He laid him on his back quickly, staring down at Pyre. More whimpers as his frame rises raggedly, barely holding onto the little Light he had left. It doesn't take a scientist to know the exo is suffering. It makes Markus shudder. But he had different matters. He has to know before their time is up. "P. Hey, look at me. Promise me."

A shudder, trying to speak. Static grinds down against his vocals. He tries to focus on the helmet above him, Markus knows; optics are flickering, unfocusing and re-focusing. 

The knight stomps closer. So close the chitin is heard, scraping together. They're running out of time, faster than he hoped. Hunters weren't exactly the best at predicting, were they? Then again, not all warlocks were, either.

Markus quickly grasps his friend's tattered robes, gripping his hand. His chest is tight at the choice he's made. He had a strong, beautiful wife waiting for him. He had friends, peers, students.. but he couldn't let Pyre go. He could never forgive himself, after all they'd been through. All that they'd shared.

"You'll live for all of us."

The thundering march of the knight is unbearable now. Another tight squeeze helps bring about a surge of strength. The warlock barely is able to wring out the hunter's name before weightlessness takes over. Markus just catches the exo's horrified and astonished eyes before he disappears down into the thick fog. Before he careened over the cliffside.

Markus whirls around to meet the looming Knight, blade raised high. Poised to strike. His hand cannon is ready to light up in turn. Markus is ready to use everything in his arsenal.

Here, he will stand.


End file.
